Page 55 of One Timer With A Wingman

I see her red SUV pull into the lot and I walk toward her spot.

I walk up to her door and she smiles at me. That smile does something to my insides, and that’s what tells me this girl is different. Not because she’s carrying my baby, but from the start I felt things I’ve never felt before.

She gets out of the car and slips on her jacket and takes her purse.

“Hi,” I say and lean in for a hug.

“Hi,” she replies. The hug is awkward. “Are you sure you want me here for this? I’ve never met a boyfriend’s parents before. Uh, not that you’re my boyfriend, but this is serious and, uh, permanent.”

She’s nervous too.

“We’re having this baby together, so I wanted my parents to meet you,” I explain. “I’m sure they’re going to love you. I’m warning you in advance, Mom has always been a hugger but now she is a lot more emotional because, you know. . .”

“Yeah, I get it. I mean, I don’t, my mom is not the hugging type, but I get that some parents are. I want to be that way with this nugget.” She holds her stomach.

“I’m sure you’ll be a great mom,” I say to her.

“Thanks,” she giggles. “I’m low-key freaking out. I don’t know anything about babies or pregnancies. I’ve been doing a lot of Google searches.”

“I have too,” I confess, feeling my cheeks heat. “How do you tell your parents you got a one-night stand pregnant? What do you say to make your baby mama feel better?”

Briar laughs. “That’s sweet, Aaron.”

“Hey, I’m not sweet. Don’t let anyone hear you say that.” I look around to make sure there is no one around.

We head into the restaurant. I place my hand on her lower back and it feels like I am claiming her, like she is mine, even though I know she isn’t.

We head over to the table where my parents are sitting side by side at a booth.

“Mom, Dad, this is Briar Halle,” I say.

Dad stands to shake her hand and Mom squeezes past him to walk over to Briar and hug her. I give Briar an “I told you so” look and she grins.

“She’s so pretty,” Mom says, pulling back and looking at Briar.

“Thank you,” Briar says, her chin dipped and her cheeks two bright red tomatoes.

“Okay, let’s give her space,” I encourage. We all take our seats and the server comes by to take our drink order.

We all settle into our seats.

“That was a good game tonight,” Briar says.

“Are you a big hockey fan?” Dad asks.

“Oh, not at all. That was my second hockey game. I didn’t really know what was going on, but there were a bunch of girls from Riverside there who were commentating the whole game. I get the gist though. You want to get the puck in the net that isn’t yours,” she says. I can tell she’s nervous.

“Briar is a gymnast. She’s on Riverside’s gymnastics team. She wants to go to the Olympics,” I say because I feel like I need to send Briar a life preserver, only I don’t think I’ve helped all that much.

“Wow, that’s cool,” Mom says.

“Yeah, well, now I don’t know if I’ll be going to the Olympics,” Briar says and then her eyes turn wide as saucers. Okay, I guess this is our segue to why we are here tonight.

“Why wouldn’t you be going?” Dad asks curiously.

I clear my throat and cut in, “So here’s the thing. Briar and I were together in Punta Cana. She kind of got pregnant.”

“Kind of got pregnant?” Dad asks.

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